And, perhaps my very favorite, Kevin Bass, if only because I pronounced it Kevin Bass (as in, the opposite of treble) for a long time before being corrected on the little league diamond with snickers (not the candy bar) and jeers. Still, to this day, I prefer my pronunciation. It is much more marquis worthy.

Sadly, none of the above were on the ballot.

Ron Paul it is.

Happy Hump Day!

Jeff

– – –

Don’t forget, a call for Filibuster queries is in effect! Send us your questions (anything goes!) by emailing RSBSblog@gmail.com or by commenting below. We (and Kevin Bass) thank you.

Just like Mr. Krause on a first date, this is gonna be quick, probably painful and
will most likely include more than one embarrassing revelation:CHI-CITY POLITICKIN!

Today is election day here in the Chi. Rahm. Carol. Chico. Some other guy. Those are your choices for mayor. Oh… I mean, those are your Democratic party choices. In this town, Republicans just hang out at the local deep dish joint and get fat, occasionally showing up to an event to slam a Democrat or two. Such slams are rarely heard. Like they say, if a tree falls…

And don’t worry. When I showed up to vote this morning I didn’t let that pesky ghost of Ron Santo standing outside the polling center sway me. And judging by the turnout (or lack thereof), I don’t think anyone else is voting him in either.

So, will you or won’t you, dear readers? Will you follow my jaded and oft lugubrious colleague, Mr. Allen Krause, to the trenches of a baseball-less existence… all to stick it to a guy (assuming Bud Selig does have proper male anatomy) who doesn’t care, who isn’t listening, who won’t get it anyway? Are you really ready to stay home and watch Maury all day instead of batting practice? Are you prepared to sulk in the reality that is a soulless sports sanctuary that includes *cough* the NBA and NHL? You do know that this has nothing to do with forcing change (why bring it up just now after all these years?) and everything to do with misery loves company, right?

It’s true dear readers… and it’s all the fault of…

DRINKY MIGGY!

Who else is to blame for Mr. Krause’s sudden bout of revolutionary activism? Why it can only be his beloved man-crush Miguel Cabrera, of course! With Miggy’s er… uh… “issues” causing alarm throughout the Tigers organization, Mr. Krause knows that his team’s season could be well over before it even starts. And that is why he is rushing to react, to draw in troops, to overthrow the baseball world so we all lose sight of Detroit slipping below Kansas City in the win column.

Believe it. Or don’t. Just don’t say you weren’t warned by someone in the know.

Because while we congratulate the San Francisco Giants and crown them as World Champions of Baseball, your country remains in dire need of your attention, your intelligence, your action!

While I have long subscribed to the “when in doubt, go left” theory of politics, I realize that now — during a time when most people seem to be more angry, more cynical, more in doubt about any and everything than ever before — that such a theory may seem just as blind and just as stupid as the uninformed bible-bearin’ masses who inject fear and hate and intolerance into every single conversation.

But don’t be fooled.

It ain’t.

The Tea Party might be the scariest thing on the planet since… since Sarah Palin came within six percentage points of being that proverbial heartbeat away from the most powerful position in the world.

We just barely avoided that catastrophe. Let’s not get that close again.

So go out. Do your duty. Be that baseball and apple pie lovin’ US American…